


T-Shirts & PJs

by Naughty_Yorick



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Funny, Oneshot, Pyjamas, Very Silly Indeed, and sweet megamind being sweet, megamind has merch now, sleep deprived roxanne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25131430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naughty_Yorick/pseuds/Naughty_Yorick
Summary: Having a well-worn T-shirt with the name of the guy who regularly kidnapped you emblazoned across it tended to lead to awkward questions, after all.Extremely quick and silly one-shot about Roxanne's rather unusual sleepwear. Every good villain needs merchandise, after all.
Relationships: Megamind/Roxanne Ritchi
Comments: 61
Kudos: 436





	T-Shirts & PJs

Roxanne collapsed onto her bed. God, what a day. 

She’d been at the station till 2am that morning thanks to some breaking story tied in with the upcoming city council elections. She’d crawled into bed just after 2:30, only to be rudely woken up not four hours later by a desperate phone call from her boss, virtually _begging_ her to come back in. She’d tried to argue, but he insisted she was the only person available, and Nick had gone home sick and Natalie had appointments all day and _please_ , Roxanne, we’ve only got the interns in! 

So she’d gotten dressed and dragged herself back to the studio, where she’d spent a frazzled morning trying to drink her own weight in coffee in a bid to wake up. 

Greg had finally let her go after the midday news. She blearily made her way home, not bothering to stop for lunch and instead choosing to go straight to bed. 

She needed a nap. She needed a proper nap, with no distractions. She shed her work clothes, wiped off her makeup and grabbed her pyjamas from under her pillow. 

Pyjamas was, perhaps, a generous way of describing her sleepwear. 

The oversized T-shirt she slept in was a couple years old, now, but she absolutely refused to get rid of it. There’d been a few occasions when, after bringing company home, she’d had to quickly shove the shirt down the back of her bed, between the mattress and the wall, to avoid any awkward questions. 

Having a well-worn T-shirt with the name of the guy who regularly kidnapped you emblazoned across it tended to do that. 

It was part of one of his first big show-stoppers. Literally, in this case: He, Minion, and a swarm of brainbots had taken over the stage at an enormous rock concert being hosted at the Metro City Arena. There’d been something like 20,000 people at the gig, and it remained to this date one of his biggest plots just on crowd size alone. 

He’d really gone all out. While the arena was nicely distracted, he’d somehow managed to replace every single piece of merchandise in the building with one of his own. All the tour T-shirts had vanished, and in their place... 

He’d made them himself, she assumed, or perhaps got them mass produced by some printing company who didn’t realise where the money was coming from. It was back when he was still fine-tuning the details of his logo - it didn’t match the one he used now - but, to her, that made it feel sort of rare, like a collector’s item. 

The concert, she thought, had been a genius move on Megamind’s part - any other gig, and the fans would have been distraught. But, god, he was _so_ rock. They loved it. Once it became clear that the T-shirts were being disposed of, there were _fights_ over them. Nowadays, the shirts were like gold dust. The cops had removed and destroyed as many as they could, but there were still a few in circulation. 

Roxanne had two. She saw this as a kind of kidnappee privilege. 

The first, he’d given her to wear during the kidnapping itself. He had _insisted_ she put it on. She should have refused. In fact, she absolutely _could_ have refused, as even then she knew he wouldn’t actually lay his hands on her. But she was drawn along by his enthusiasm, by the sheer audacity of the plan, and, above all, the chance to annoy Wayne. 

(That was nearly two years ago. They’d been fake-dating for around a year at that point, and she was already sick of it). 

The second one she’d managed to snag just after Wayne had released her. They had T-shirt cannons (T-shirt cannons! The sheer audacity of it impressed her even now), and had been firing shirts into the crowd. She'd managed to grab one after Wayne had arrived - the first one she'd gotten her hands on - and, in a moment of madness, threw it on _over_ the one she was already wearing. It was huge, far too big for her, but she didn’t want to risk drawing attention to herself by trying to find one that actually fit. She’d kept as out of the way as she could, and after Wayne had dropped her off at her apartment later that night she had feigned a headache to stop him hanging around. She knew that given enough time he’d have remembered that they were supposed to be destroying the shirts and insisted she give them to him. She couldn’t risk it. 

She’d launched them into her laundry basket and, in an act of unusual effort, had washed both of them the next morning by hand in her bathroom sink. It wasn’t until she was hanging them up above the bath (hanging them up outside on the balcony was far too risky) that she realised - with shock, but not perhaps surprise - that they had little labels inside that made it clear they could be machine washed. 

The smaller of the two had a permanent spot in her chest of drawers. She felt like she was _saving_ it for something, although she wasn’t sure what. If she ever moved away from Metro City or, even less likely, Megamind hung up his cape and turned his back on his life of evil - she had vague intentions to get it framed. 

And the larger - well. That had been her night shirt for just over two years. 

She pulled it on over her head. The fabric was soft through use, and it smelt of sleep and sweat. It really was enormous, covering _just_ enough that it wasn’t entirely indecent. She yawned. 

Finally, she slid back into bed, curling beneath the covers and closing her eyes. 

\--- 

Somewhere far away, something crashed. Roxanne opened her eyes, groggily, still half-asleep. It took her a moment to remember where she was. 

With a groan, she rolled over and grabbed her phone. It was barely two in the afternoon - she hadn’t even been asleep for half an hour. 

There was another crash. This one was unmistakable - not just some half-imagined dream. _Fuck_. 

She flung back the covers and sat up, feeling dizzy. She’d probably left a window open - she often did, when she’d gotten back from work at some ungodly hour. With a sigh, she stood up, wobbled a little, and without bothering to get dressed headed downstairs. She’d fix whatever it was that had fallen over, and grab a glass of water in an attempt to clear her head. 

A breeze drifted up the stairs. Shit. She’d definitely left the window open - perhaps even the patio doors. At least it wasn’t raining. 

Running a hand through her sleep-bedraggled hair, she padded into the lounge. 

And there was Megamind, standing over the remains of what was, once, a very nice vase containing a particularly lovely bouquet of flowers. At his feet was a slowly-spreading puddle of water, shards of smashed glass scattered about like islands. In his hands were the remains of some rather sad-looking lilies. 

She froze. He looked up. His eyes took her in in one swift movement up and down her body and suddenly, she remembered what she was wearing. 

His mouth hung open. 

A dozen scenarios ran through her head. Panic gripped at her for the briefest moment before she realised, with a little jolt of shock, that she was truly too tired to care. 

Before he could say anything, she spoke. 

“I’m going back to bed,” she said, her voice crackling with sleep. “I want this cleaned up by the time I’m awake.” 

And she turned on her heel, strode back up the stairs, pushed her bedroom door shut behind her and lazily flopped back onto the mattress. 

\--- 

She woke three hours later. She’d been plagued by strange dreams - a result, she assumed, of too little sleep the night before and Greg stressing her out all morning. They all seemed to run into one another, but one stood out - there had been a crash, and Megamind had been there. She frowned, rubbing at her eyes as she tried to remember. 

He had bought her flowers? It was a strange dream - but not the first she’d had about him. 

With a sigh, she shuffled out of bed. She knew she needed to get up, or her sleep schedule would be well and truly fucked. She slid on her slippers and slowly made her way downstairs. She blinked as she entered the lounge. Something was… different. 

Her eyes fell to the coffee table. Upon it was a ceramic vase full of flowers - full of startlingly blue roses, to be precise. But… her vase was glass, she knew, and it had been lilies that Wayne had giv-- 

_Fuck_. Not a dream. _Not a dream_. 

She took a cautious step forward, half-afraid that Megamind would jump out from behind the sofa and throw the kidnapping bag over her head. Nothing happened. 

Resting against the vase was a calling card, and in neat, sensible handwriting was written - _“Sorry about the vase. Try again next week? - M”_

There was a little skip somewhere in the region of her stomach. She looked up again at the roses sitting on the table as if it was the most normal thing in the world. They really were unfathomably blue. She wondered where he’d gotten them from - or if he’d somehow grown them himself. 

Roxanne turned the card over in her fingers, feeling at the soft, slightly textured cardstock. She realised that there was something written on the back, too. She read it, and had to suddenly bite back the startled little noise that tried to escape her mouth. 

_“Nice PJs.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this... a very long time ago. Honestly, I mostly just wanted to design Megamind a T-Shirt. Which, well. I did. You can find it on my Tumblr: [A-Kind-Of-Merry-War](https://a-kind-of-merry-war.tumblr.com/post/623005095441956864/a-very-long-time-ago-i-designed-a-t-shirt-and) 💖


End file.
